


Love for One Knight

by Sauric



Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Fiction, Literature, Short Stories, prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-02
Updated: 2010-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-23 03:10:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8311759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sauric/pseuds/Sauric
Summary: This is an old fic I published on dA years ago, just moving it here.I've seen many version of this story that creates an ending for Fakir and Ahiru, but some of them have been so poorly written or have gone about it in such a tasteless way. That's not to say my version will be any better! However, I dont tend to critique writing, so instead I chose to write my own version. I am keeping names as the Japanese versions simply because Princess Tutu has transcended mere childs fairy tale for me and it doesnt feel right or comfortable to call Ahiru Duck.I highly considered ending this at :Fakir...Fakir, sometimes...sometimes the knight becomes a prince:. But I realized ultimately I wanted a declaration of love and a confirmation of change in Ahiru. Also, I dont imagine Fakir is the kind of guy who would ever say, I love you, but I think Ahiru is smart enough that she would just know. She could never tell Mytho she loved him so she had to find other ways to show him, I think that she also knows Fakirs pride gets in his way.All Characters (c) Ikuko ItohStory (c) me





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old fic I published on dA years ago, just moving it here.
> 
> I've seen many version of this story that creates an ending for Fakir and Ahiru, but some of them have been so poorly written or have gone about it in such a tasteless way. That's not to say my version will be any better! However, I dont tend to critique writing, so instead I chose to write my own version. I am keeping names as the Japanese versions simply because Princess Tutu has transcended mere childs fairy tale for me and it doesnt feel right or comfortable to call Ahiru Duck.
> 
> I highly considered ending this at :Fakir...Fakir, sometimes...sometimes the knight becomes a prince:. But I realized ultimately I wanted a declaration of love and a confirmation of change in Ahiru. Also, I dont imagine Fakir is the kind of guy who would ever say, I love you, but I think Ahiru is smart enough that she would just know. She could never tell Mytho she loved him so she had to find other ways to show him, I think that she also knows Fakirs pride gets in his way.
> 
> All Characters (c) Ikuko Itoh  
> Story (c) me

The glow of the lamp spilled over the cream colored pages as Fakir's quill ran over them, weaving a story as he had been doing for the past ten years. Writing came easier now, and though he'd had a few brushes with danger for spinning these tales, many were now going on as he had written them, and he had begun publishing children's books that were initially sold out of the used book store in town before the regular book store was willing to pick up sales.

At this point in his life, Fakir had success in his grasp, and he knew for this he should be happy. Still, he thought, it didn't feel like enough, and the quill stuttered to a stop on the page. He cast a glance backwards over his shoulder, his gaze resting on a small puff of yellow feathers snoozing quietly on the pillow on his bed. "Ahiru" her name escaped him wistfully before he could stop it, and he clamped his lips tightly shut to prevent any further stupidity on his part. Shaking his head, he turned back to the page before him, rereading the last few sentences before resuming his latest tale.

But it was no use. The quill skidded to a halt again, as if it refused to work on this bit of prose for now, and Fakir sighed in defeat, pushing the stack of pages aside. The motion revealed a clean, empty page from the bottom of the pile, and his writing hand itched to begin on this new page. Fakir held back, casting a second glance at the small duck. For years he had convinced himselfno, he had _consoled_ himselfwith the belief that it was best for everyone to return to their true selves. Perhaps for some people that was true, but perhaps others were meant to change and remain changed forever.

No, he knew in his heart what he wanted, but it was not fair to Ahiru. He could not force that on her. One of the first stories he had ever written for her, he had burned in the end and she'd never had the chance to read it. In part it had been an action against Drosselmeyer, but in part it had been the discomfort in manipulating as well. He stared down at the page, wishing for an easier answer. He gave Ahiru's sleeping duck form a third and more lingering gaze, searching for a clue before it dawned on him and he began to write.

_It was in the dark of night that a man, descended from Drosselmeyer himself, sat writing at his desk, his only wish to create a new tale for a heroine unlike any other. Although she had decided it was best to go back to her true self, the time she had spent as a human had changed her. She was no longer just a duckshe was a duck who had known and still felt human emotions deep in her heart. But those emotions, where were they now? Did she know, even ten years later, a remarkably long life for a duck, that her heart was always with her decision? Had her true self actually changed?_

Fakir stopped, looking down at the ink on the page, sweeping his left hand towards it to snatch it up and crush it into a ball for fuel for the fire, but he halted, his hand hovering. If he never wrote this tale, he would never know and Ahiru would never be human again. He set his hand back down and resumed writing.

_The man poured over his writing, wishing nothing more than to create a tale that would have the happy ending that the heroine truly wanted, for now she was trapped, utterly and completely, in the form of a yellow duck, and she had no way of changing her fate._

Fakir struggled to fight back a yawn, glancing at the clock. Even at this hour of the morning, he refused to give up until he had finished.

_The sun was not long from the horizon as a familiar sound woke the heroine from the bed where she slept. Glassy blue eyes gazed up, still half-clouded and drowsy for a moment, before the duck fully awoke and stared at the familiar face that came with the sound. A soft quack escaped her and the familiar person smiled. "Ahiru," the person said, and the duck quacked again in confusion. The person quietly explained to her before finally telling her, "Ahiru, will you become human again, or will you forever remain a duck?" For a moment, the small yellow duck thought to herselfand she opened her...bill...to...re...ply..._

Fakir's battle against his exhaustion became a loss as the tail of the "y" scratched across the page and the quill pen fluttered to the floor. Fakir slumped over the page, his weariness finally getting the better of him and taking him over in a deep sleep.

A moment later, a light appeared in the room, accompanied by a gentle tune of a carnival music box, a tune which slowly awakened the sleeping duck on Fakir's pillow. She winced at the light for a moment before it finally dulled and standing before her was a tall green-haired puppet. "Quack?" the sound that escaped her was questioning as she recognized Edel, and a soft smile came to Edel's face.

"Ahiru," she said gently, "out of love you have been given a second chance. If you feel your form as a duck is your true form, then you can simply go back to sleep and act as though I've never come. However," she continued, glancing at Fakir's sleeping body leaning on the desk, "if these years have brought you only too often a desire to return to the form you once assumed, this is your chance."

Ahiru glanced at Edel's music box that contained jewelry and felt her feathers fluff nervously. She could not do with another jewel being the only thing that kept her human. If she chose to be human, it should be irrevocable. "It will not require a charm, Ahiru. You will be a duck or a woman, for the rest of your life," Edel's voice broke through her anxious musing.

She peered past Edel at Fakir. _He_ had written this? What was she supposed to do? She felt confusion in her heart; she didn't understand what Fakir was making her do. She fluttered across the room, landing on the desk by his head, and she peered at the pages that he had written. Edel spoke the nearly final line as she read it. "Ahiru, will you become human again, or will you forever remain a duck?" There was no reply written on the page, and for a moment longer, Ahiru was at a loss.

Wait, but that meant this choice was truly hers to make. She glanced down at Fakir's troubled face scrunched in pain, even as he slept, and she thought hard about the decision she was making. She smiled as only a duck can and she leaped to the floor, landing on one foot gracefully, her wings spread wide.  And so she danced. She danced and she prayed with all her heart that Edel would understand.

I am not just a duck, Ahiru thought, pushing her thoughts into her motions. I am a duck who became a girl who became Princess Tutu. I don't need to be Princess Tutu again, but more than anything"More than anything, I want to dance with my prince again!"

Ahiru collapsed onto the floor, her body draped on Fakir's knee, panting. With a nod, Edel draped one of Fakir's shirts over her shoulders, and Ahiru glanced down. She had returned to a human form! Looking up at Fakir's face, she smiled as tears glistened in her eyes. Fastening the buttons on the shirt and drawing the fabric close to her body, she settled her head on Fakir's lap. She then set one hand on his leg, peering at feathers replaced by fingers as dawn broke through the window.

"So you wanted to dance with your prince again?" Fakir's voice came from above her, the sound tinged with disappointment and anger.

Ahiru lifted her head and gazed into his newly opened eyes, hurt reflecting back. "All I knew as a human, for so long, was pain, heartbreak, and discontent," she began.

"Then why did you choose to return to being human for such a stupid reason?" Fakir snapped, raising his head as his lip twisted into a snarl. He grabbed hold of Ahiru's wrist, gripping it tightly.

Ahiru bit back a gasp of pain as she replied, "By the end of it, all I wanted to know was happiness, laughing together, talking together, being together, _always_!  I was content for so long just being with you, and that was all I could do as a duck!" A single tear slid down one cheek and plopped onto Fakir's pant leg.

His grip on her wrist loosened, surprise wiping the anger from his face as Ahiru rose from the floor into an arabesque penchée. Her hands fluttered to his shoulders for support and her head lowered to his, her forehead resting against his own. "Dance with me, Fakir. Please, dance with me."

He rose slowly, almost unsure, placing his hands on her waist and slowly turning her around, and she leaned back against his chest. She smiled. "Fakir...Fakir, sometimes...sometimes the knight becomes a prince."

For a moment, Fakir nearly stumbled, but he recovered, catching Ahiru as she nearly fell backwards. They danced in silence, no music but the beating of their hearts to guide them. As he lifted her, Ahiru's lower lip trembled, and she could not halt the words that escaped her. "I love you"

Fakir choked, setting her down hard, and he spun her to face him, cold sweat rising on his skin as he looked on in fear. Grasping her shoulders, he pulled Ahiru into his arms, clutching her tightly, waiting, waiting for her to turn into a speck of light and disappear. Those words meant for Mytho so long ago had been given to him, and for what? For her to fade away?

He held her close for a long moment, and it began to dawn on himshe had not disappeared. "Ahiru, you're still.you're still here."

He pulled back and peered down into her face, and she smiled. "It was Princess Tutu who would have disappeared, Fakir, and it was Princess Tutu who loved Mytho. Now I'm only Ahiru, and I love only you."

He pulled her back into his arms, holding her tightly. "AhiruAhiru, I wrote a story for youjust for you," he finally confessed. "I never finished it."

She nodded, and although he couldn't see it, he could feel it. "I know, Fakir, I saw. I'm glad you didn't finish it."

A small noise of surprise escaped Fakir. "You're...you're glad?"

"Mm," Ahiru replied. "That means we can finish this story...together."  



End file.
